People are Most Beautiful Right Before They Die
by BlackRoseAnguish
Summary: Chapter 2 is up! Vile continues his journey for Soul Edge. He is on his way to a certain ruined castle. But what happens when he meets a strange girl with powers strangely similar to his?
1. Prolouge Character Profile

Standard Disclaimer: If I owned Soul Calibur… that would be great. But I don't.

Well then, shall we begin?

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Vile  
Age: 19  
Birthplace: Unknown  
Height: 6'  
Weight: 143 lbs.  
Birthdate: Unknown  
Blood Type: O-  
Weapon: Broadsword  
Weapon Name: Imperial Blade  
Discipline: Shadow Swordplay 

Family: Abandoned at birth. Raised by a tribe of Shadow Casters, they were destroyed when he was fourteen.

Abandoned by his biological parents at birth, Vile was adopted by a small tribe of mages who studied the art of Black Magic. The leader of the tribe realized the child's potential and buried a tribal treasure- a fragment of Soul Edge- deep in his body. Over the years, Vile willingly allowed two more shards of the Evil Seed to be magically implanted within him. Growing up learning how to control evil gave the young boy an understanding of how to suppress the raw power within him. However, the colossal power of Soul Edge had a drastic effect on Vile's mind.

He would drift into fits of evil power where his emotions would run wild, one moment crying uncontrollably and the next trying to kill clans-members. After one fit when he was fourteen, he succeeded in killing two of the tribe members. When he came down from his surge, he, of course, felt remorse for what he had committed, and demanded he be exiled from the tribe. They did not exile him, but instead- with Vile's full permission- shackled him to a stone wall with chains imbued with White Magic so he could not escape. Most of the tribe opposed this rash method of restraint, but Vile himself would not allow anyone to free him.

Soon after, a war suddenly broke out between his tribe and another, and both were wiped out. For months he hung from the underground wall, no one hearing his weak calls for help. His body was fatigued and malnourished, but the fragments of Soul Edge within his body would not let him die.

Five months passed before an alchemist wit the name of Isabella Valentine came to the underground dungeon in search of alchemy tools. The evil energy resonating from Vile's body had attracted her there. She freed the unconscious young boy and when he came to he thanked her deeply.

"Now kill me," he ordered the woman in a strained voice, then once again fell unconscious.

The woman did not intend to kill the boy, nor did she understand why he yearned for death. But when she touched him to bring him to a safer place, the feeling of evil energy radically increased and his bare skin scorched her hands. This boy could not be touched. Knowing ho he wanted death, and perhaps now understanding why, she did what she could to fulfill his request and left him there.

Vile awoke later very much alive and cursed the woman for not eliminating him. He returned to the upper world, temporarily blinded by the now unfamiliar light, to find his village in ruin and bereft of any life.

He thought to himself, "All I know is darkness," and returned to his underground prison. There he would protect the world from his cursed body. He remained there for years doing all he knew how to do- hone his sword skills with the blade he made with shadow magic.

For five years he trained in solitude underground, learning to control his fits of evil energy and mastering the broadsword. One day after warding off a surge of power, a man with a large scythe appeared before him.

He spoke these words: "You, who has joined with sword, if you seek freedom from your pain, you must walk the path of evil."

Before Vile could find out how this man knew of his pain, he vanished. Vile did not trust this man, but if he knew what Vile felt, he must know more. He spoke of "the sword." Was he talking about The Sword of Salvation that had become one with Vile? That's what Vile needed- salvation.

Would Vile walk the path of evil as the man with the scythe said? No. No matter how revolting he saw himself, or how much he despised his existence, Vile knew he was not evil.

So, with his shadow-crafted sword in hand, a now nigh-unstoppable warrior stepped out into the light once more. He would acquire Soul Edge- his salvation- in order to lift his curse and rid the world of his atrocious soul. Vile would stop at nothing to reach his objective.

This is his story.

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Don't worry. Chapter one will be up very soon. Anyway, what do you think of the intro?

PLEASE R&R!


	2. Arena of Wandering Souls

Standard Disclaimer: Oh, Namco! Why dost thou own Soul Calibur?

Sorry for the wait, but now it's time for chapter 1! This should give you a pretty good view of my writing style.

And now… Let's begin!

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Vile brought his arm up to cover his eyes from the burning sun. The warm air greeted his hard, emotionless face as he walked up the stone steps into what seemed like a whole new world. He had been beneath the earth for five years without contact to the outside world until that strange man came to him. Now, as his eyes focused on his surroundings, he could feel the breeze and hear the birds. After so long, they troubled him. The scent of anything but damp, stagnant air was unfamiliar to him, and now as the smell of greenery took over his senses, he truly realized how long he was down there.

His sight was still blurred, but he looked down at himself, expecting to undergo a fit, but he did not. His eyes had used to be green, but after the third piece of Soul Edge was put inside him, they were tainted and became a deep blood red. He reverted his gaze to his surroundings. The once lively Romanian village where he had lived was destroyed. Houses lay in ruin and everything else was reduced to rubble. Vines and weeds had grown over everything. A rabbit scurried into the brush upon seeing the man.

Vile shook his head to filter his thoughts. "I must focus on my objective," he said, and twitched. It had been a long time since he heard his own voice, which was deep and rigid after years of being sheltered. It sounded as if everything but cold emotion had been drained from his voice over the years. It was clearly the voice of a troubled individual.

He wandered around the ruins of his home until he found a stone house, partially standing. He raised his arm and swung the Imperial Blade to cut overgrowth covering the doorway.

The inside was caved in and Vile could only take a few steps in before meeting with the wall. The sun shined in the now open door and made something catch Vile's eye. In the corner, beneath a stone, was an old belt- no doubt worn by someone five years ago. On the buckle, emblazoned in the silver was his extinct tribe's crest. He would take this with him on his journey. He had to keep his tribe alive…even in this small way.

As he stepped outside with his sword in one hand and the belt in the other, he looked down at himself once again, this time regarding the rags he was wearing. His presence was not that of a warrior, he hadn't even kept his hair under control. What need was there for that in an underground prison? If he was going to be present in the world, he would have to be dressed more appropriately. He fixed his short black hair to be acceptable and after searching the village he found a tattered black robe.

It wasn't much, but it would cover him better than his rags.

He promptly slid the robe over his trim but solid body and fastened the belt to his waist. His next goal was to find a way to make some money for his journey. Vile had no idea where to start and he figured he would be traveling great distances. For that, he decided, he would some money.

For what seemed to be a lifetime ago, he was once told of a coliseum to the west of the village. Nobles would gather there and bet on peoples' lives.

"So I'm to compete." Vile spoke aloud to himself in order to get used to his own voice as he determined which direction was west.

He didn't want to have to kill anyone, but the metal shards inside him desired differently. Vile noticed that as he thought of having to kill someone, he felt desperately hungry.

Without another thought about that, the black robed man slung his sword over his shoulder and began walking west.

He thought to himself, "I wonder exactly how far west I need to walk. I've never been too far from the village."

So through the woods he walked. He recognized the surroundings fairly well for someone who had been away for five years. Soon, he would come to a field he used to train in. But now he had no elders to train with…he had no one. When he arrived at the clearing, it seemed to have been the only thing unchanged since Viles's last memories of the place. It was still a thirty-yard patch of dirt where he first picked up a sword. The largest tree still had a rope dangling from one of its branches, on which used to hang a straw dummy.

A normal man would have smiled at the nostalgia, but Vile's face remained stoic. He remembered, and was filled with sadness. There was no one left like him. His kind was considered evil among other people. Vile could not even touch another human being without harming them. His pain could not be understood. Perhaps, he had forgotten how to smile.

"I have lost everything…" he nearly whispered, and continued walking.

Vile was too consumed in his dismal thoughts of past to notice how far he walked, but suddenly he was standing on the outskirts of a town. The sun was now setting and Vile's legs ached, so it seemed he had trekked a fairly large distance.

Ignoring the pain in his legs, he walked into town. The houses and buildings here were much larger than the ones in Vile's own village. He spotted an older woman carrying a basket of fruit. She looked up from he bundle as Vile approached. The young man cleared his throat and spoke slightly louder than he meant to.

"Do you know where the battle arena is?"

The woman jolted and her eyes widened. "I don't know what you're talking about!" she replied and hurried off. Perhaps it was because he almost yelled at her that she was scared of him. Or perhaps it was the large sword propped on his shoulder; either way, the woman was gone and Vile had no information.

His eyes searched for anyone who would appear to know something about the arena. In the distance he saw a cart lined with what looked like merchandise. A traveling salesman, maybe? He began walking to the cart, and the people around him stared and murmured to each other about the strange man in tattered clothes. Vile ignored them.

The shopkeeper was a man who appeared to be in his forties. "Welcome! Can I help you with anything?"

Vile looked at what was hanging from the cart: dead animal carcasses, counterfeit jewelry, quills kept in bad condition. "Perhaps. I need some information." His voice was now of appropriate volume. "Is there a coliseum around here where I can make some money?"

The salesman raised his hands. "Shh! That's an underground organization! If too many people find out, it could be shut down!" Vile thought he _had_ been being quiet.

"So you know where it is?"

"Yeah I know where it is," he pointed south. "It's seven or eight miles that way. But try not to say anything to about it to anyone along the way."

Vile thanked the man and left in the direction he had been shown.

By nightfall, he had walked about a mile and every time his mind wandered to the battles he was to fight, his body screamed with hunger. But Vile knew he could not give in to the evil inside him.

He kept walking for anther two hours until he came to the Mediterranean Sea. There was no arena anywhere in sight. Had the shopkeeper lied to him? Then again, he did say it was a secret organization- maybe it was hidden? He decided to trust the words of the man and search for this secret arena. It wasn't long until Vile came to a cove with a deep cave carved into it. Inside were the lights of torches and the noise of many people cheering. He had no doubt that this was the coliseum he sought, for the scent of blood was in the air. The metal shards throbbed.

The arena was sunk into the cave about sixty feet. It was obviously modeled after the Ancient Roman Coliseum. The walls were lined with hundreds of seats for spectators. The cave's roof was forty feet high, so there were two layers of stands. Arches kept the walls of the cave supported and over one of the largest arches was a balcony for what probably was the proprietor of the arena. A few small boats rested on the water. The battlefield was a twenty-foot by twenty-foot stone platform with a large torch in each corner.

Occupying the battlefield now was a large man with a horned helmet, and a much smaller man who looked like he didn't stand a chance. As Vile thought this, the larger of the two men brought his oversized mace to meet his opponents' head. A deafening crack could hardly be heard over the crowd's joyous cheers.

"These people are all monsters," Vile thought.

Two men dressed in identical tunics carried the limp corpse of the man off the platform and the victor of the bought cried in a thick English accent, "Willingness to fight is not courage!" The crowd cheered louder.

"Hey!" A man in a red robe pointed to Vile. "Who are you?"

Vile took his sword off his shoulder and brandished it. "I fight."

The man studied Vile's clothes. "You?" he snorted, "alright kid, but this guy's undefeated."

"So that means I'll win a lot of money, right?"

"Well…yeah. _If _you win, kid."

Vile nodded. "Good."

The man in red directed Vile onto the platform and grumbled something about not standing a chance.

Vile looked at his opponent's cloths. A thick animal carapace was draped over his massive shoulders, the claws of the unfortunate beast hung over his chest. At his waist was a tasset made from the same white animal hide. Metal bracers adorned his arms and on his feet were cloth shoes covered by metal shin guards. Chains crossed his front and sharp bone spikes rose from his shoulders. The most defining piece of his costume was a helmet shaped like a tiger's maw with tow curved horns coming from it. The man was a few inches shorter than Vile but his body was built gargantuan. He would be a good foe for Vile to test his sword skills on.

The man thumped the base of his giant mace on the wood floor, then raised it to a battle stance. "Let's see what you've got!"

Vile readied his sword by bringing it in front of him, both hands clenching the hilt. He shook his head. "It's been awhile."

Vs. Rock

The crowd began shouting for blood to be spilled, so Vile's opponent- who was announced as Rock- charged him with the horns on his helmet. He quick-stepped to the side and slapped Rock in the back with the flat side of his sword. The large man grunted loudly as he swung his maul behind him, simultaneously turning himself around. Vile easily dodged.

They stood facing each other for a moment before Rock charged again, this time with his weapon prepared to deal a deathblow to the man in black's head. Vile leapt high into the air and Rock's mace met with air. The crowd exploded with barbaric joy at the mysterious fighter's display of agility. They roared even loader upon Vile's landing behind Rock, and the shaft of the giant mace slamming into Vile's cheek.

Rock attempted to make contact again, but the Imperial Blade connected with the mace and both men fought to push the other away. Vile swiftly leapt backwards, catching the giant man off guard and forcing him to loose balance and stumble forward. The younger man viewed this opening and brought the pommel of his sword to Rock's face, breaking his nose.

He roared with pain and anger, and as he prepared to counterattack, he felt Vile's blade slice his forearm.

The strike happened in a flash of steel and Vile made sure to cut just deep enough to make him drop his weapon. Rock did just that and his weapon, the Onslaught, clanked heavily to the floor. Vile reared back and kicked the larger man hard in the chest, knocking him down. Rock looked up in defeat, his weapon out of his reach. Vile brought the cusp of his sword to his throat. His eyes darted to the wound on the man's arm. At the sight of blood, his body throbbed with a deep feeling of hunger. He pushed the feeling away, and the noise of the screaming crowd came back to his senses.

"Kill me!" the downed man yelled. "You have won. Kill me with honor, warrior!"

Vile paused for a moment. The spectators seemed to be growing restless to see someone die. Without a word, Vile slowly pulled the sword away from Rock's neck.

Rock was stunned. "You would…spare me now?"

Vile turned to look at the angry crowd, but addressed his opponent. "You don't need to die."

People began booing and throwing things at the two still-living men.

"You are kind, warrior." Rock climbed back to his feet. "But I sense an evil air around you. Could you have another reason for letting me live?"

Vile knew the evil energy he spoke of was coming from the metal pieces within him. "No. Unless you _want_ me to kill you."

Rock chuckled. "Not at all. You have my gratitude for sparing my life."

The crowd was yelling for the next match to begin. "Where do I go to collect my money?"

Vile and Rock stepped off the battlefield. Both purses were a hefty sum of gold – Rock's was larger, however.

The large man turned to Vile "Where are you going? Why have you come to this location?"

After counting the gold he had earned, Vile answered. "I can't tell you that."

Rock nodded. "You must have your reasons for secrecy, warrior. Well, whatever it may be, I wish you luck."

"Thank you."

During the night, Vile wandered into another small town. When he arrived, it was a few hours before dawn so there was no one on the streets. He waited patiently by the door of what looked to be a shop of sorts. About a half-hour after sunrise, the town became a bit livelier. A few people could be seen going about their morning duties. A pretty young woman in a light blue maid's uniform unlocked the door Vile was waiting next to.

"Hi there," she said to him with a sweet smile. Vile nodded and stepped in after her. She stepped behind the counter and he looked around. All types of armor were displayed on tables and mounted on the walls. He admired a few of them then thought to himself for a moment about what he was going to buy.

"Can I help you find something?" the girl asked him from her spot behind the counter. She had been watching him since he walked in.

He walked up to the counter and held his sword out in front of him. "A sheath."

She studied the sword for a moment. "Hm… It's a bit wider that most forty-inch blades, but I think I can find something." She ducked behind the counter and disappeared for a few moments. The girl came back up with a black and gold scabbard of the appropriate size for the Imperial Blade. "Will this do?"

"It will." He paid her for the sheath, being careful not to let his skin touch hers, then considered to himself what to wear. He wanted to be able to go unnoticed at night, and he didn't want to wear clumsy armor. "I'm going to need some black traveling clothes."

"I can see that." She reached below the counter again and pulled up a set of thick pants and a black mail. Vile also purchased leather gloves, a cloth headband (to keep his hair under in hand), and leather boots that reached blow his knees. The color of his outfit was black for night travel, but he felt like something was missing.

He glanced at his poke of money before deciding to buy one more thing. "What do you have in the trench coat department?"

"One moment." She disappeared into another room, then came back with a folded black trench coat in her arms.

It was more expensive than Vile had hoped, but he felt better wearing it. He fastened the sheath to his back over the coat and threw away the old black robe he had had on. As he was walking out, the shopkeeper stopped him.

"Um, excuse me?" Vile turned around. "You will be traveling?" He nodded. "My sisters and I have shops in different areas of Europe. My name's Lynette. If you meet either of them, tell them you know me, they'll give you a discount."

"Thank you."

Vile left the town, now dressed for travel. He stood on a cliff overlooking a forest. Sleep was not an option for him. Weeks had passed before where he would not sleep; Soul Edge made sure to keep him up. But now he wasn't in the confinement of his underground prison, he was in a world he knew nothing about. He knew he wasn't far from home now, but soon would be. His search for Soul Edge was about to begin…but _where_ to begin? As if to answer his heart's question, the pieces of the demon sword flooded his body with a feeling of being desperately lost, and as if to answer the metal shards' cries, Vile sensed evil energy to the north. The energy called to Vile and seemed to reach out for him.

What better place to start?

Now decided on his next destination, Vile followed the evil energy north, his trench coat flowing behind him. Soul Edge would be his.

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Sooooo? What do you think? How's the first chappie? I have re-vamped this chapter, fixed typos and added a more in-depth description of Vile. If you want, re-read the beginning of the chapter to get a better visual of him. Reviews will be replied to via forum- click the link on my page. If you review, I promise I'll reply.

Soon to come… Chapter Two: The Misguided Angel of Death

You know what that means!

See you then.


	3. The Misguided Angel of Death

Standard disclaimer: I do not own Soul Calibur. Nor do I own a chain of fast food restaurants or any medieval torture devices. Just though you should know.

I hoped to get this posted sooner, but alas, I did not. Anyway, enjoy the chapter. Everyone's favorite psycho is introduced here!

Let us begin…

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Vile looked across the moat at the huge fortress's crumbling walls- Ostrheinburg Castle in Germany. His trek there cost him four long days on foot, without sleep of course. The feeling of being called was at its strongest now, and had grown stronger as he got closer to the castle. He knew the source of the evil energy was here.

Vile crossed his arms and looked up at the clear sky. He recalled the warning of the man he had met along the way.

"That castle is a terrible, evil place. Many people have died approaching its walls. I would advise against going anywhere near there."

Despite being told it was a dangerous place, Vile learned much from that man- who had fed him and told him all he knew about he castle- and decided to go there. He learned that the former wielder of Soul Edge used to reside in Ostrheinburg Castle. That would explain the energy flowing from it, and Vile needed to investigate.

Now he was prepared to enter this monstrous castle. Maybe his Sword of Salvation was here waiting for him; though he doubted it would be that simple.

The drawbridge was destroyed so Vile looked for an alternate route into the castle. He walked along the shore for a while before finding a very large raft. It was tangled in brush and seaweed, so it took a moment for him to get it ready. After he cleaned off the fifteen by twenty-foot raft, a black crow landed on the corner that was beached.

"Get outta here," Vile spoke to it like that bird could understand. It cawed at him then flew away to above the castle. It was then that Vile noticed the hundreds of black birds that had seemed to just appear, gathered above one of the four huge towers. It figured a place like this would attract scavengers.

At first he struggled pushing the wooden raft into the moat, but after most of it was in the water, Vile easily pushed it afloat. He hopped on and enjoyed the ride around the castle – which was even bigger than he had thought.

He had been riding for almost ten minutes and he had barely made it halfway around. He came to what appeared to be a long overpass that formed a tunnel over him.

On top of that overpass was a seventeen-year-old girl that had been watching him. As he exited the tunnel she became giddy as she got a good look at him.

"Oooh! He looks really strong! Very strong!" She clapped her hands in malicious delight and smiled broad. "He'll make a great host for Soul Edge!"

Vile looked up at where the voice had come from. As he turned around, a girl in green landed on the other side of the raft. Around her body was a large metal ring – a weapon. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, not knowing what to expect.

"Who are you?"

Her face lit up with a wide smile, and she looked absolutely ecstatic to see Vile. "I can't wait to see you die! It's going to look incredible!" She pulled the metal ring off her shoulder and held it to her side in a battle stance. The girl's clothes were of green cloth and apparently torn apart from battle. They barely covered what needed to be covered and revealed much of her skin. She wore long purple gloves that reached her biceps and long green boots that extended to her thighs. Over the cloth boots were short metal grieves. Her hair- which was layered and parted in the middle, lips, and make-up around her eyes were all green as well. A purple tattoo ran horizontally from her left ear to the middle of her face. Her eyes were a deep mysterious purple. Actually, she would have been very pretty if she wasn't intent on seeing Vile die.

However, Vile did not intend to die on this raft – even if it was possible. "Do not cross me, girl."

The edges of the girl's ring were razor-sharp and raised in three places to tear wounds open further. Vile had never dealt with such an unorthodox weapon.

The girl spun the ring around her arm. "Oh hurray! This is gonna be fun! I'm gonna kill you now. You ready?" Her voice had a slight English accent hidden behind pure thrill.

Vile drew his blade from its sheath on his back. "I would rather not fight… but so be it." He had noticed that the girl's body produced the same evil energy that Vile's did. Perhaps she could lead him to Soul Edge.

**Vs. Tira**

That's when she attacked with blinding speed. Vile barely managed to dodge as the circular blade brushed past his head. She quickly recovered from her miss by dexterously arching her back and swinging her weapon horizontally above her bent body. Vile brought his sword up to a defensive position and parried her blow, knocking her off balance. He backed up to the edge of the raft.

Keeping his Imperial Blade at ready, he addressed his attacker. "Who are you? Why are you attacking me!"

The green-haired girl was back in her battle stance as well. She was still bright-eyed and smiling. "I'm Tira! And I like your body. Can I see it for a minute? I wonder if Soul Edge would like it?"

"Soul Edge!"

Before Vile could query the girl named Tira, she attacked again, this time doing a split in the air. He was nearly knocked off the raft as the kick connected with him, and she followed up with multiple kicks from different directions. Vile doubled over as a metal grieve hit him in the stomach, but he predicted her next move and from his position bolted past her, causing her to cut the air.

Tira turned and her gaze met Vile's.

"Will you stay still so I can cut you up?"

"You're totally crazy."

The girl sighed. "Well, we're gonna hafta do this the hard way!" She swung her weapon to the side and smiled wider. Suddenly, there was a flash of light and her arms and weapon glowed blue.

Vile gasped. He knew that power. It was what his body did before he would go into a fit. Was Tira like Vile?

She attacked.

Vile brought his blade up to block her. Tira's attacks seemed like there were more force behind them with the blue energy. She pushed Vile back with each of her blows in rapid succession. He knew he could end the fight quickly by simply plunging his blade through her torso, but he couldn't repeat what he did when he was fourteen, especially if this girl was anything like him. So he adeptly absorbed and evaded the assault if her razor-sharp ring, until she pulled away for a moment.

She must have focused more energy into her weapon, because it seemed to crackle with lightning. Her hands nimbly spun the ring as it sizzled. "Hurry up…" she finished her command to Vile as she swung her weapon at him with, "and die!"

It knocked his blade out of the way and struck him hard in the chest. His shirt and skin opened up as he fell backwards- sword still in hand. Blood spilled from the wound and onto the wood of the raft as he climbed back to his feet. He pushed his hand to his chest.

He looked up at Tira, who was looking victorious. The blue glow was gone, though she was still smiling. "It's time for you to die, okay?" She lifted her ring above her head and brought it down to meet Vile's neck. He swung his sword and sparks flew as the blades slid against each other. Tira lost her footing and her attack failed. She stumbled back.

When she looked back up at the bleeding Vile, he had recovered his stance despite the wound. He felt the pain but it was distant and unimportant. Was it because of Soul Edge that he could stand the deep laceration? Or maybe he was just driven. Either way he would not let this insane girl win. But how was he to beat her if she was trying to kill him?

Then something drastic happened. The look on Tira's face changed from the look of pure joy to a look of bitter hatred. Her voice also changed to a one of stinging disgust as she spoke. "A nuisance… what a nuisance," she hissed.

Vile had to get rid of her before she could inflict any more injury to him.

Tira attacked with lighting speed. Vile blocked her blow then grabbed her by the neck before she could recover. Her eyes showed the shock as Vile tightened his grip. He lifted her off the ground, then threw her to the surface of the raft. She landed with a hard thud and bounced slightly. There was the noise of clanging metal.

Vile yelled at her, "What do you know of Soul Edge!"

She remained silent as she clambered back to her feet. She held her weapon with one hand to her side now. Her face was still filled with anger and hate and she snapped at Vile. "Hmph. I don't even feel like killing you." Tira hung her weapon back around her lithe body. She faced the shore then bounded off the raft and ran into the thick forest. She was too fast for Vile to pursue.

No! Vile didn't get any information from the girl who was like him. She _must've_ had Soul Edge in her body, too. He had to speak with her without her trying to kill him.

"Wait a minute," Vile thought, "why _did_ she want to kill me?" She had mentioned something about his body, not to mention Soul Edge… What connection did she have with the sword Vile sought? The girl was getting away indefinitely. If he was going to follow her, he would have to do it immediately. However, he hadn't explored the castle yet – and that was his initial destination. He looked to where Tira escaped.

Upon looking harder, he saw a massive black cloud approaching him. Disbelief swelled up inside him as he saw what was coming towards him. Out of the trees flew hundreds of black birds. Vile raised his trench coat to cover his face and sunk to one knee. The beating wings and sharp talons blew past him and flew into the sky once more.

Vile slowly stood up, complete shock in his eyes. "What the hell was that!" he yelled to no one. He collected his thoughts and decided he would chase the trail of the girl at a later point and venture into Ostrheinburg Castle.

Still drifting beside the battlement, he looked down at his chest. His clothes were covered in his own blood and the wound made from the girl in green's weapon was still bleeding. The flow had slowed and the pain was dull, but Vile didn't know if he would survive loosing so much blood.

Using the raft, he came to an entrance on the side of the fortress. There was an old black flag lying on the ground, which he tore apart and used to make a bandage that draped over his upper torso diagonally.

His wound treated, Vile looked into the castle as he re-equipped his sheath. The aura of evil inside was unmistakable, and somehow felt like home to Vile. He didn't know why, but his body was relaxed while he was here. It was strange, and somehow frightening, yet he wanted to stay in the wrecked castle – though he knew he could not.

Behind the castle curtain, there was a large ruined garden that was now nothing but rubble and dirt. It was fifty feet until the inner wall of the castle. The portcullis was blocked by wreckage and debris and hung from a twisted metal bar was the dead body of a man. His eyes were blank and his hands were twisted into a strange shape. The injuries on his body indicated that he was killed by a thin metal blade. Perhaps, it was Tira who had killed him and hung him gruesomely there.

It took over an hour for him to find an apt entrance. The front entry was impossible to get into, so he had to climb into a large hole in the wall ten feet off the ground. Cumbersome, but Vile knew he needed to get in at any cost.

Inside, the walls were thick and the corridors were wide. It would be hard to get lost here. The black birds seemed to enjoy the atmosphere of the castle, for they were inside the walls as well, and every so often, one would fly past Vile's head. Vile memorized the path he took as he wandered deeper into the bowels of the stone castle. He couldn't help but feel like all the birds were watching him – it was unsettling. As he searched for anything related to Soul Edge, he found his mind wandering back to the green-haired girl.

Had she gone into an evil fit like Vile was known to? No…he didn't think so. She still seemed conscious of what she was doing even after the glow appeared. Maybe she had learned to channel her evil. If so, could he do that too? If Vile could turn his weakness into strength, no one could stop him from obtaining Soul Edge.

Soul Edge…. Tira had some kind of affiliation with the sword. But what? It was clear that she possessed a dark aura like Vile. Was she after the Sword of Salvation too?

Vile stopped walking. He had to stop. His mind was going in circles. For now, he would put the girl behind him and focus on his own search.

Once again resuming his hunt, Vile followed the pulsating energy within which drew him directly to the center of the castle

After thirty minutes, he came to a large, open room. Painted on the floor was a huge red circle extending almost to the edges of the room. Within the circle were ritual instruments – relic weapons, incense, magic tools. He walked to the center of the room to examine the materials. He sifted through a pile of brown dust on the floor.

"Sting dust." Vile spoke aloud as he identified the powder. It was a magical ingredient made from ground scorpion – his tribe used it for its healing purposes. Next to the sting dust was an oil burner. Being a shadow caster himself, Vile was well versed in black magic like what was used here. Based on what was around him – the sting dust, an incense made from lotus, cursed blades – he recognized the ritual as some kind of resurrection spell. But for what?

Vile looked about the tools, remembering learning about this kind of thing, until a wave of evil energy swept over him. He looked around sharply. Something was calling him – something deeply evil. Vile wanted it. He wanted to find it and bask in the aura. So he searched the room, and atop a shelf on the wall was a large fragment of Soul Edge.

Vile took it and cradled it in his hands. He could use this to broaden his power. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to actually merge with it, but he could do the next best thing.

He unsheathed the Imperial Blade and laid it on the stone floor. The power flowing from the shard was great and needed to be put to use; he was going to synthesize the evil metal with the steel of his blade.

The metal forging ritual was a simple one and Vile had done it countless times – he used it to craft the Imperial Blade – so he foresaw no difficulty in doing it. But the metal of Soul Edge was like adamantine and very resistant to magic. Vile placed the fragment of the evil sword on top his own sword and focused his thoughts. He muttered a short incantation and a pool of light surrounded his weapon. Another incantation passed his lips and the light faded. In its place was an upgraded Imperial Blade. Now, at the base of the blade, were what looked like brown and red metal scales that ran down the hilt.

Vile picked up the sword and tested it in the air. He could feel the raw power coursing through the weapon. Enjoying the feeling of newfound strength, Vile sheathed his sword and prepared to leave the castle. Now that he had acquired the fragment, the evil energy no longer lingered and he was done here.

His next goal was to learn how to harness Soul Edge's power like Tira had. However, he feared what could happen if he got out of control.

Vile found his way back outside and to his raft.

He rode back around the wide moat. His arms were crossed and his eyes were closed – he was lost in deep thought.

About Soul Edge…

About Tira…

About his own evil…

Where was he going next? The girl was long gone so he lost his chance to follow her, and it was probably too late to pick up her trail.

The raft docked on the shore where he had first boarded it. Vile stepped off onto the wet sand and proceeded back the way he came. A faint evil energy called to him from the direction of his homeland. He had no problem following it to somewhere that he vaguely knew.

So Vile walked back toward Romania. He was now five days out of the dungeon without sleep. And he knew nothing. All he had gotten accomplished was obtaining new clothes. But perhaps he had more than he thought. The girl could hold information he needed – eventually, he would have to find her and make her talk. Also, he was now in possession of another fragment of Soul Edge.

As he widened the distance between himself and the castle that felt familiar somehow, he stopped hearing the calls of those damn black birds. Following the attraction if the evil energy he sensed, Vile once again submerged himself in his thoughts as night began to fall.

"I must find a way to die."

* * *

The plot thickens. So is it obvious who Vile's next opponent is going to be? The next chapter is gonna be the longest yet so it may take a little longer for me to post. Anyway, thanks for reading and as always please R&R!

Until next time, readers….


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